


Anything But Normal

by Califlower101



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe- Freeform, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bad/Skeppy - Freeform, BadBoyHalo - Freeform, BadboyHalo x Skeppy, Dorks in Love, DreamSMP - Freeform, Eggpire, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, Friendship/Love, It's basically a story told within the Dream Smp, It's basically a story told within the Dream Smp but not super accurate to the lore, Love Triangles, M/M, Mediveal, Mentioned TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Mild Hurt/Comfort, Minecraft, Platonic Zak Ahmed/Darryl Noveschosch, SMP, TechnoBlade, Unrequited Love, Zak AHmed - Freeform, Zak Ahmed/ Darryl Noveschosch - Freeform, demon badboyhalo, mcyt- Freeform, mindcontrol, skeppy - Freeform, skeppy/badboyhalo - Freeform, the egg
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-18
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-16 04:13:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28825029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Califlower101/pseuds/Califlower101
Summary: When things around the Smp take an abnormal turn, Skeppy is none the wiser to the chaos around him. Maybe it was because he chose to ignore it. He had never before inserted himself into the daily antics of the other members before. Why start now? However, what happens when it’s not just another acquaintance? What happens when it’s his best friend who’s beginning to act… oddly.
Relationships: BadBoyHalo/Skeppy, Skeppy/Badboyhalo, Zak Ahmed & Darryl Noveschosch, Zak Ahmed/Darryl Noveschosch, skeppy x badboyhalo
Comments: 15
Kudos: 104





	1. Totally Normal

**Author's Note:**

> This story takes place within the Smp. I won't be using any real names as this is a story about the characters and personas the youtubers display. I hope you enjoy this story. I plan on posting at least once a week for future reference. I don't consent to any republishing on any other sites. If I wanted this on Wattpad, I would've put it there. If you find it anywhere other than on this site, please let me know, and I'll handle it. Thank you for reading.
> 
> There will be light shipping, but it will all mostly be platonic... that doesn't mean I won't write a few heated scenes. I plan on surprising you dear reader. 
> 
> Absolutely no smut though. It would just take away from the story anyway.

Skeppy:

It wasn’t out of the normal. It wasn’t unusual or atypical in any way whatsoever. At least, that’s what Skeppy kept telling himself.

Ya, completely normal... Nothing to worry about. But then he saw in the bottom left hand of his vision the words “Badboyhalo fell from a high place,” for the seventh time in the past ten minuets… Not normal. What on earth was he doing? He honestly didn’t want to get involved with whatever Bad was up to, but his curiosity kept growing every time the message appeared. He’d thought nothing of it the first two times. Heck, he’d actually begun to ignore it the fourth time around… however, the fifth and sixth drew his interest once more. 

“Badboyhalo fell from a high place.” There it was again! Others had already taken notice and had voiced their concerns in the hive mind, but Skeppy was determined to not get dragged into whatever this was. 

“Badboyhalo fell from a high place.”

… One message couldn’t hurt right? 

“You K Bad?” He telepathed into the hivemind. He didn’t get the response he wanted though. Instead he just got another death message, same as the last nine. He really didn’t want to get involved, but his concern, as well as annoyance, was starting to grow. Skeppy had plans that afternoon; he didn’t have time to get dragged into Bad’s antics. Their mansion was in complete disarray, and he had hoped to enlist the help of whomever he ran into to clean it up. 

He had tried multiple times to get Bad to take initiative, but it turned out that he was just as lazy as him. And now, weeks after the initial fight and false promises to do it later, Skeppy stood in the disastrous “dumpster fire” of his once magnificent status indicator. No, he determined, he most certainly did not have time for this, but there it was again. “Badboyhalo fell from a high place.” Just ignore it, he told himself. He’ll stop sooner or later. And with that in mind Skeppy continued on with his day.

And so he did. He ignored it. He ignored it the twelfth time. I ignored it the twenty second time, and most of all he ignored his overall sense of dread. He went on with his day. Pretended that everything was completely normal, that this was perfectly acceptable behavior. It was just a normal day… Just like all the others. He repeated this when he slammed the door of his mansion and went out into the city. He repeated this when he went door to door and pestered each of his neighbors in hopes that one would take pity and help him clean his home. He repeated this when his job offer was rejected. He repeated this when those same neighbors voiced their concerns about Bad. And he repeated this when he did the walk of shame back to his home.

He began work on his garden in hopes that it wouldn’t be too much of a chore; however, it turned out that Skeppy really hated to garden. Nobody had wanted to help, not even at the mention of payment. They’d seen the disaster of his home and its slow progression into what could be the equivalent to a dump. And so now, as Skeppy lay motionless in the fall grass surrounded by his various picks and hoes, he asserted that he wasn’t getting much done and that it was pointless.

“Badboyhalo fell from a high place,” He groaned. There it was again. It’d been over an hour since the first fall, and Skeppy had long given up trying to communicate with the, who he now deemed insane, man. Sure, he had tried several, SEVERAL more times. If several meant hundreds of public and private messages. But he had more or so given up at this point due to a lack of response. It seemed everyone else shared in his sentiment as well, seeing as they had stopped caring long ago.

No, now wasn’t the time to worry about Bad he repeated. Sure it was confusing, but Skeppy knew he had more important things on the agenda. With that in mind, Skeppy made his way down Prime Path in search of a certain someone. He grinned wickedly when he thought of making this certain someone do manual labor. The idea had come to him as he lazily poked at weeds just moments prior. No, he held no sympathy for this individual, and he was certain that with a little “persuasion,” he could get what he wanted. Now… if only he could find a certain duck.

He gazed up into the sky duly noting that he only had a couple more hours of daylight, not that he minded. He could handle himself fine against the stray creeper or skeleton, not that he saw much of them lately anyway in the well torched smp. No, Skeppy wasn’t concerned about nightfall because of the occasional pesky mob. No, Skeppy was more concerned about the other humans, and humanoids, who called this city home. Most were fine, great in fact. Skeppy got along well enough with a whole bunch of the other residents; however, there had been some light turmoil along the border of l’manberg and Dream’s land. It was none of his concern, and Skeppy intended to keep it that way. He interacted with as few people as possible in order to stay out of the conflict. It just didn’t intrest him… the same couldn’t be said about his best friend, speaking of which “Badboyhalo fell from a high place.”

It wasn’t that Skeppy disliked them, quite the opposite in fact… he just didn’t connect like Bad. And even that reason was second to the destruction he had seen that came with making relationships, alliances, and enemies within the city. No, that was much too chaotic for Skeppy. He preferred the quiet of his mansion, the occasional acquaintance, and with the exception of Bad’s company, his projects. However, he was beginning to find that not having many close friends made it all the more difficult to recruit help, such as for projects like cleaning a mansion.

“Badboyhalo fell from a high place.”

It was quite the predicament really. He truly despised cleaning, yet there were very few individuals he felt comfortable with who lived near enough that he could call upon them for help. People, like his friend Technblade, came in short supply and lived out in the far regions. As Skeppy walked slowly down the path lost in thought not quite aware of his surroundings, he ran into a figure not much taller than himself. 

He heard a troubled yelp from the other before looking up from his now sitting position. He groaned lightly and made a move to stand up. And then there was a hand in his face. He took it without much thought, but then he saw the owner of it. 

“Hey, Skep. You all right? I thought you would’ve seen me, but you just didn’t stop walking. Something on your mind?” he heard Dream say from under his porcelain mask.

Skeppy took in Dream’s stance. He looked harmless enough; it was a false pretence at best. A pathetic imitation of kindness. Skeppy wouldn't be fooled. He’d seen first hand Dream’s manipulative nature. His nature was made equally obvious every morning when every Skeppy looked out his window and saw the hideous prison Dream had convinced Bad was a great investment and then constructed. Clearly, that wasn’t his worst quality, but it was his most annoying one. And it certainly wasn’t the worst thing he’s done… but it was the only thing that had directly impacted Skeppy thus far.

He stood confidently. His green cloak gently swayed in the breeze, and as always his smile mask was dawned with pokes of blonde hair peeking through from under his hood. Skeppy quickly realized he was yet to release his grip on Dream’s gloved hand, fingerless of course. He just about felt the need to roll his eyes, but chose against that course of action. 

“Ya, I’m doing all right. What brings you around here?” he asked casually, engaging in the conversation, no reason not to be cordial.

“Around here? You do realize I basically founded this nation.”

It was no surprise, not in the least. Anyone who was anyone knew who Dream was and his connection to the Smp. And once again, he fought the strong urge to roll his eyes.

“Could've fooled me,” he started instead, “I barely see you around these parts anymore.”

Dream let out his signature wheeze before replying, “I suppose you have a point. Either way, you’re just the diamond boy I was looking for.”

Skeppy felt his face pale slightly and thanked whatever god there was that his fear was concealed under his head box that only revealed an indifferent derpy face rather than his real feelings.

“Me?” he asked, failing to hide the tremble of his voice.

“Yes you,” Dream replied slyly, “I wanted to ask your help in finding Bad.”

Nope! Skeppy had things to do! Much more important than getting wrapped up in whatever this was. However… That was an interesting thought indeed. Dream wasn’t the original gullible dummy he was initially after, but how could Skeppy possibly ignore such a perfect opportunity. 

“Dream, this is your lucky day!” he announced quite loudly, “It just so happens that I know Bad better than anyone and know exactly where he is currently spam dying! And the information will only cost you the low low price of helping me clean my modest mansion.”

Skeppy could almost see the combination of amusement and disdain behind Dream’s mask. He hasn’t had any previous qualms with Dream before today, so he figured he was in the safe. Still, even with this knowledge he couldn’t help but fiddle nervously with his shield. 

“Sure,” he heard him relent. It surprised him honestly. He had figured Dream was in a hurry, but he wasn’t going to turn down his acceptance. Especially when he was the one to propose it in the first place. It wasn’t his original plan, but it wasn’t like this was going to backfire on him, right? And with that the two made their way to Skeppy’s mansion. What Skeppy didn’t realize was that this was the beginning of something very very not normal.


	2. "Where do your allegiances lie?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit shorter than the last chapter, but I hope ya'll still enjoy it. I've been a big fan of the mcyt for a long, but this is the first time I've really done anything for or with the community. I hope you like my fic so far!

“So,” Dream started while looking at the obsidian in his hands that he had just mined from the doorway, “You do know where Bad is right?”

Skeppy was beginning to doubt his decision. It had only been ten minutes since Dream and he arrived and began cleaning his mansion, and in that ten minutes Dream had tried nearly every angle possible of prying Bad’s location from Skeppy’s mind. Skeppy saw it from a mile away, and while he kept brushing Dream off by claiming that if he handed over his leverage, he’d lose his new “favorite maid,” he was actually beginning to panic internally.

He didn’t have any idea where his best friend was!

He’d made it all up on the spot. He didn’t actually think Dream would accept his offer! Well… he may have accepted it, but he was by far the least helpful person he could have hired. With his insistent prying and painfully slow working pace Dream was worse than stuffing Technoblade in an apron and yelling 'Have at it!'

From the corner of his eye Skeppy could see Dream accidently break the floor of his mansion with his efficiency billion pickaxe… again… slowing him down even more. He was SO slow! Ironic for a speedrunner.

It was faster with the two of them though. For the first time in months, Skeppy could recognize the original brilliance of his home. With their current pace, he estimated that it would only take about another thirty minutes of dedicated cleaning. Good news for Dream… not so much for Skeppy.

He had to come up with something, and quick. Really the only thing coming to mind was to send a private telepath to Bad. Not too helpful considering he’d already tried that, but it couldn’t hurt to give it another try.

“Baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaad WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU!!!!!!”

Okay, admittedly he could have phrased that a bit more eloquently, but it got the point across. Now all he had to do was wait.

“LANGUAGE!”

Well that wasn’t long.

“Badboyhalo fell from a high place.”

“Where are you? I know you’re seeing this!”

“Badboyhalo fell from a high place.”

“I don’t have time for this.”

“Badboyhalo fell from a high place.”

“If you don’t tell me, I’ll swear again!”

“Badboyhalo fell from a high place.”

“Fuck, shit, fuck fuck shit!”

“Badboyhalo fell from a high place.”

He gave his reply a couple of minutes before realizing he wasn’t getting a response. He nearly yelled Bad’s name out in frustration, but refrained after seeing Dream in his peripheral parkouring around his mansion before once again disappearing somewhere behind him. SO SLOW!

“What are you looking at?” Dream suddenly said from behind him.

Skeppy just about jumped out of his head box, “You just about gave me a heart attack!” he exclaimed.

“Sorry, it’s just… You’ve been staring at that wall for a hot second.”

Ya, because I’ve been yelling at my crazy best friend for the past “hot second” is what Skeppy wanted to say. Instead he responded with a simple “Sorry, just spaced out for a second.”

In hindsight this wasn’t much better. Honestly it was quite the incriminating and suspicious answer, but it was something. He knew Dream was narrowing his eyes from behind that disturbing smile, but he just continued cleaning and filling in missing blocks.

“You know, it’s quite the nice little place you’ve guys got here."

Skeppy raised an eyebrow from beneath his head box, “Little?” He didn’t comment on it though, instead letting the man continue.

“I can’t seem to remember, where do your allegiances lie?”

He really reeeeally didn’t have time for Dream’s interrogation. A recurring theme it seemed. However, he decided to give a simple, “My alliances lie with Bad. I have no specific interest or connection to the others, so I try to stay out of conflicts with them.”

It was short, to the point, covered by all cylinders. There was nothing inherently wrong with the statement either. Unfortunately, Dream deemed the answer in need of a follow up question.  
“If your allegiance lies with Bad, where do Bad’s allegiances lie?”

It was a simple enough question, but it brought about a pause in Skeppy’s mind. They lay with him right? It was him and Bad against the world… right? Then again…

“Um.. with me of course,” he forced out with a flat laugh following.

He heard Dream muse from behind him with a small hum before it became unnaturally quiet. It was the type of quiet that made one afraid to breath, the type of quiet that you could just about touch. It was the type of quiet that invaded your thoughts without your permission. The type of quiet that asked unwanted questions. “Where did Bad’s allegiance lie?” “Why wasn’t he answering his messages?” “Where was Bad really?”

The gentle footsteps didn’t register with Skeppy before it was too late. The cool, steel grip of a blade up against his throat got caught in his vocal folds. The blade breathed an inferno heat, and he could already feel the blisters forming on his skin from where the sword made contact. Any protest got lost on his tongue as a Dream’s voice drifted from inches away from his ear. “You don’t really know where Bad is, do you.”

It was phrased like a question, but it was said as anything but. His heart lurched with a crippling fear.

The blade was gently removed from his neck before he felt a fat boot connect with his back trusting him down and staining his once perfect white flooring crimson.

“Thanks for the- interesting- afternoon. Enjoy your day!” He heard a chipper Dream yell from over his shoulder as he sauntered out his front door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on Twitter for in order to be notified of when I’ll update!
> 
> @Califlower101


	3. "Badboyhalo fell from a high place."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got a little creative with the imagery. I hope you like it. Constructive criticism is always helpful, and I'm open to ideas. I'm still learning the ins and outs of this website and of writing fanfiction. Interacting with a fandom is certainly new territory for me. Hope you enjoy! Thanks for reading!
> 
> Follow me on Twitter in order to be notified of when I’ll update!
> 
> @Califlower101

Badboyhalo:

Dying hurt. Okay, that was the understatement of the year. It was excruciating. It was the most agonizing and painstaking process he’d ever experienced. The initial impact wasn’t so bad, it was the respawning. The space between life and death, the place where liquid sleep flooded your system and choked out every defining feature of your being. It all blended into a cacophonous mixture where your acid dissolved molecules pumped black blood through your velvet veins and into your numbing limbs. And it wasn’t fast either.

It progressed as a sleepy chore that you hold no control over. You exist in a void of dry mist. A mist so thick and hot that your particles have to claw through it to cling together before once again being pried apart. You’ll inhale this mist, and it tastes like fire.

And that’s when you realize that you can taste. That’s when you realize that it’s over. And that’s how Bad felt when he took a sudden deep and struggled breath for the first time in over ten minutes. His skin felt tender as he ran it over his bedsheets. He took several slow and steady breaths to calm his racing heart. It felt weak. That’s probably because it was. The toll of respawning most heavily impacted the heart; it had been still for the past ten minutes. Reanimating was no small feat.

It would’ve been a wonder that his heart hadn’t given out yet. When the heart has no strength, it doesn’t matter how much you want it; resurrection was no longer an option. For most, this point came after their third death, and it would’ve been impressive that Bad had died and respawned so many times thus far had he been literally anyone else.

There were many, MANY different types of species within his city. Most came from the overworld ranging from animal variants like Ant Frost, Jshlatt, and Puffy, mob mixes like Awesamdude, and of course normal humans like Tommy and Tubbo, and then there were the Nether hellspawn like Ranboo and Technoblade who descended from ghasts and pigmen. Heck there were even people who emerged from minerals, like Skeppy who was a literal diamond spawn. However, there were none quite like Bad.

Most called him a demon. He preferred Enderman. Sure Ranboo was half enderman, but the young one was troubled and resisted his nature. Bad could understand his hesitance. Endermen were by nature quite flighty, and he couldn’t imagine having a nether half that constantly fought with your end self. But it was clear that Ranboo’s endermen half most likely came from the Warped Forest migrants and that he never truly experienced the wonder of the End.

It was a place forbidden to all. A place secluded from society, protected in a sense. The Nether you could visit. You could live in it if you wanted. The overworld was transferable by all. The End though… That was a different story. An enigma to everyone… everyone except Bad.

He’d lived there most of his life. Endermen don’t die, not of old age at least. They can die of injury… but they don’t respawn. Most of his brethren died when they unknowingly walked into the sovereigned inamorata’s fire. It happened quite often if Bad was being honest. Endermen in The End lived in a dazed plane of existence, never truely having sentience or awareness. And he was exactly the same as them… until one fateful day.

He remembered it so vividly. Maybe that was because the predominant emotion flowing through his system was fear. An absolute crippling fear. A fear so powerful it shattered his daze, his pleasure filled day without the sun. It began a normal dream in the day.

Life before then always held a solid pace. Somewhat of a routine. He didn’t need to learn the motions. They were bred into him. He had been made with a purpose. To serve.

It was on that fateful day when he truly learned what being a servant meant. Before, it had been to protect. To heedlessly give his life for a single being. To look an enemy in the eye and instil in them what he had never felt before that one singular day. Fear.

Life in The End could be summed up in a single word, wander. It was a “wander” that he hadn’t gone insane from the wander track pace his life had led. To drift so aimlessly, so unaware that your own agency had been stripped from you… that was a fate worse than death.

Bad remembered, moments prior the incident, watching his queen fly overhead. Her black brilliance caused a ripple in the deep oblivion as she swam through it in a smooth dive. This wasn’t out of the normal, not in the slightest. He’d seen this nearly a million times before. It was nothing new. Completely normal…

And then he felt it.

The tug, the overwhelming desire to simply compact his every dark particle into a singular dense point pulled with a tighter tension than the fetus universe. And he saw it, the light. So unbelievably bright, and now things didn’t seem quite as pleasurable. And the air… It held substance, a sort of weight. And there was a boy. He introduced himself with this oh so ridiculous name, Skeppy.  
That was the moment he met his new master.

His new master was just as ridiculous as his name. He tried so hard to assert this dominance, and in the beginning he had it, all the control he could have wanted. Fear breeds obedience, and in that moment Bad felt nothing except complete and utter terror, so he obeyed.

This boy hybrid creature thing had summoned him. He told him that his life was no longer his. That even if Bad wanted, he couldn’t die. This was his fate.

He never had agency. There was no choice, no freedom in this world for him. Before he had been unaware, and so, so ignorant, but he had had an escape. He had death.

Now… Now he had a mind. A mind for others to manipulate is what he argued with himself in the early days. A mind for his master to rule. A mind to tell him that he no longer had an escape. There was no death.

So he treated this new “life” of his as his after-life. A plane of subsistence after his true “life” had ended. That there had never been an escape to begin with. It was easier to believe that than to know that his ‘escape’ had been taken from him.

Master Skeppy had phrased it as such a great thing. That ‘not dying’ was the best thing since… sliced bread? Bad didn’t understand the reference. But Master hyped it up as something out of a fairy tale. That being his servant- or friend? as he called it- would be so much -fun?

He had plans. He had big dreams and goals. He had aspirations and sparkles in his eyes when he spoke. He said that as long as he was alive, Bad couldn’t die… That they were connected? And that this was good… It was all so very confusing at first.

And so no. Bad’s heart never gave out. No matter how many times he threw himself off this sheer cliff. No matter how many times he fought with his inner demons who laughed and taunted him with an agency he never had. No matter how many times he saved Skeppy’s life at the cost of his own... 

No, his heart never stopped beating. But it didn’t beat for him. His life was not his own. His heart beat for a master… a boy who went by the ridiculous name of Skeppy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on Twitter for in order to be notified of when I’ll update!
> 
> @Califlower101


	4. "A Life Owned"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! As always make sure to go follow my Twitter, @Califlower101, for updates and my various minecraft comments. This chapter was super fun to write, and I hope you all enjoy it. For chapter 5, I can take it in multiple directions, so I wanted to get some feedback. It will be from Skeppy's perspective. Do you want a time skip to morning, or would you like it I wrote about an adventure he goes on during the night. These two scenes are going to happen regardless of order because they are necessary for the plot; however, I don't know if the flow is becoming too linear and needs a time jump.

“Bro, how much longer do we need to be up here?”

Bad looked up from his bed comforter at a boy in a jaded jacket and a knitted beanie.

“Until I feel something,” he responded quite cryptically.

He heard a loud groan from behind him as he stood and looked down the same sheer cliff for the sixtieth time that day. 

“What are you even trying to accomplish?”

Good question. Too bad he didn’t have an answer. And on that note Bad threw his body off the mountains side and into another spiraling descent. 

The one thing nobody emphasizes about falling to your death enough is the cold. The most uncomfortable thing about falling, once you get over the fear, is the bone chilling wind screaming past your skin leaving small cuts in its wake. Bad made a mental note to bring a coat the next time he did this. 

It was becoming quite the grim habit. While it was therapeutic the first time… it was just addicting now. The view, the unbelievable feeling of free falling without reality’s chains, the absolute liberating and infatuating burst of adrenaline of flight, and the grand finale of the careful impact that mangled his bones and crushed his skull… it brought reason to his chaotic mind. 

He took a deep breath and sat back up from his bed. Every muscle in his body burned with fatigue, but he ignored it when he stood once more. 

“Seriously dude. I don’t get it-”

He walked over to the cliff-

“No, stop. We’re gonna talk about this. This, this… It isn’t healthy. I don’t care if you have unlimited lives, I can see the exhaustion on you!”

Bad hesitated slightly before sitting down to appease his friend, nearly glad to have a reprieve, but he let out a little growl to give the sense that he was annoyed. 

“Oh don’t be like that. Just answer my questions. Doesn’t Skeppy let you whatever you want?”

“That’s- Quackity,” he exasperated, “Let me put it this way. Does anyone ‘let’ you do anything?”

“He doesn’t even tell you what to do though!”

“That isn’t the point. True agency is to have full control over your actions. I shouldn’t have to be ‘let’ to do anything. I guess… Maybe this will be easier to understand. If you went and made a mess somewhere, whose fault would that be?”

“Mine.”

“Yes, but if I went and made the same mess as you, Skeppy would be responsible for me. I don’t want that. I want to have full responsibility for my life, my consequences, my achievements! I want to live for myself!” Bad exclaimed, becoming quite heated by the end of his statement

“I-” his response died in the air.

In the silence, something broke in Bad, “He fu- dging owns me! I just can’t seem to get away. I love him so dang much, and I don’t even know if it's of my own free will! MY LIFE IS NOT MY OWN! And I don’t know what to do! And I can’t even tell him, because I can’t bear the thought of hurting him in any way! I don’t even know if it's me that doesn’t want to hurt him or some strange dependence he’s instilled in me!”

Bad noticed that he had stood up and was strongly gripping his trident in his left hand.

“Wow, I uh… had no idea you felt so strongly about this.”

Silence befell the two of them before he cracked a smile in an attempt to lower the tensions, “Spam dying didn’t give it away?” Bad joked.

Quackity let out a small breath and small chuckle, “What would you do?”

“What do you mean?”

“If you were free? What would you do? What's the first thing you would do?”

He didn’t even have to think about it. He knew exactly what he’d do, and he could lie; he could give a small fib to ease his friend’s worries. And if Quackity was Skeppy, he would have lied. He would have given Skeppy’s fragile world ideals consideration; however, Quackity was different, and he wasn’t afraid to shatter his reality.

“If I were free,” he began, “The first thing I’d do is die.”

He heard a heavy sigh from the man behind him, “That’s what I thought.”

After a moment of silence, there was a shift, and suddenly Bad felt something. He didn’t recognize what the feeling was, but it was there, and it was enough.

“Let’s go,” he said.

“You’re done? Does that mean?”

Bad rolled his eyes, “Yes, we can leave.”

“Oh thank fucking goodness! It’s shitting cold up here.”

Bad laughed at that, “Language,” he chastised.

And just like that, the mood had lifted. And it was good. For a moment, it was good. It didn’t need to be complicated with Quackity. It just was.  
They made the slow descent down the mountainside, their destination a small speck in the distance. It hadn’t been noticeable from the peak, but it became apparent to Bad the deepening shadows from the towing cliffs that surrounded the two of them. The blue sky of the peak contrasted so starkly with the grey haze of clouds they had once stood over. The ice particles stung Bad’s lips, and he licked them to relieve the feeling. Instant regret. The moisture only made them colder, and soon he found himself sucking his chapped lips into his mouth in an awkward grimace.  
Quackity wasn’t doing much better. He was also quickly learning the hard way that the quickly approaching night was going to sorely halter their travels. It wasn’t the end of the world, but Bad couldn’t help but to think of everyone who had telepathed him throughout the day with concern, especially Skeppy’s many, maaaaaany messages. It just wasn’t going to be possible for the two of  
them to make it back into town at the pace they were currently moving though. 

If Bad had been alone, he knew that he would’ve just pushed through the unfurling storm and mass of mobs that are sure to start spawning, but he wasn’t alone. And he just wasn’t willing to push Quackity more than he knew the man could take. He knew Quackity would whine and complain the entire way down the mountain, but he also knew that Quackity would insist that he was fine and to keep moving the moment Bad showed any concern. And he knew that Quackity was absolutely not equipped for the elements. And he also knew that Quackity… kinda sucked when it came to defending himself against… really anything honestly. And so, Bad knew that he had to be the one to stop for shelter.  
He had to find something quick though. According to his daylight clock, he still had about twenty minutes before the sun officially set. It seemed the mountains blocking that sun didn’t share his  
same sentiment, however, and he found himself settling for a cave off the side of their path. 

“Here? Why can’t we just go home?”

He expected it. He really did. He had just hoped that he wouldn’t have to deal with it, “Quackity, we’re kind of in a predicament. I’m going to be blunt. You suck at fighting off mobs, and I’m honestly not about to risk your life by claiming to be able to protect us both.”

It was meant as a wake up call… Quackity interpreted it as flirting. 

For the next hour, as Bad worked to start a fire from the wet wood in his inventory, Quackity was on the top of the world, peacocking from the Bad’s small sentiment. From light jabs, to playing with the edge of his cloak, their time was spent in comfortable bickering. No matter how much he tried not to, Bad just couldn’t help but play into his bit. Quackity just made it too fun, and Bad knew that the others could wait and that tonight… was his night. He may not own his life… but tonight… was his.


	5. The Cold, Dark Woods

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I appreciate all the support I've gotten with this! Sorry for the later update, but life happens. As always, I love any and all constructive criticism. Without any further adu, enjoy!

Contrary to Dream’s farewell statement, Skeppy did indeed not enjoy his day. In fact, the rest of his day was spent in fervent devotion to cleaning, if only to distract himself from Dream’s threat to his life. It was true that he still had all his lives, yes. That didn’t make dying any less painful or valuable. He only has three after all, unlike some people.

There were few on the smp that dared play with death, and even fewer who survived the game, Bad being one of them. To Skeppy it seemed he had long ago gotten bored of playing with the grim reaper, for the time being at least, and as a result the death messages stopped showing in his peripheral. 

Skeppy was… in the most basic of terms… spoiled. He had always been high maintenance. He enjoyed the modern advancements of society and appreciated the sophisticated things in life. It was a very… in the most criminal terms… materialistic life style. But one could hardly blame his upbringing. He just liked what he liked, and he had the means of getting it.

With diamonds practically growing from his tear ducts, it wasn’t hard to make a fortune. Simply crying brought him monetary gain, and he learned from a very young age how that same money could be used to control others. Manipulation became a part of his everyday life.

Making friends wasn’t hard. Making “real” friends was another thing altogether. Those were in few supply, and he even had to result in conjuring his very own to feel truly satisfied. How? Money talks…

Originally Bad wasn’t going to be his friend. He was just to be his loyal servant. In a world where trust is virtually extinct, it was important to have those who obeyed and feared. 

That was until the young enderman showed to be sentient and completely aware of his surroundings. 

That was until the young enderman made him laugh like no other. 

That was until the young enderman saved his life… multiple times. 

That was until the young enderman was sweet and nice. 

That was until the young enderman comforted him in his most desperate situations. 

That was until the young enderman vowed his life to him. 

That was until the young enderman told him he loved him

That was until Skeppy realized that those feelings were no longer one sided.

So yes… Skeppy was spoiled. He lived in a mansion surrounded by towering marble statues. He had a fortune, and unlimited sets of armor. He had a personal servant with twisted feelings towards himself for crying out loud. Feelings he let permeate and grow into a hideous two stalked flower. He knew Bad held a deeply rooted resentment. He assumed it was because he used his money for favors, but he knew Bad would always forgive him. Yes… very spoiled indeed. 

He liked the comforts of a regulated temperature, of a polished cleanliness unmatched by any other household, of his high ceilings, of his enormous bed filled with strictly red parrot feathers, of his extravagant dishes and foods several fields in length, and of his many many maaany other accommodations. 

He was used to living lavishly. He wasn’t used to hiking through the cold, damp woods in the dark. It would be hours until the first signs of daylight, and Skeppy was seriously debating just hightailing it back the way he came. 

Why was he out in the middle of nowhere at this ungodly hour? Simple. Badboyhalo, the center of all his problems lately. If Bad had come home, like he had promised, then he could be the one out and about stumbling in the dark echoing chamber. But alas... here he was.

Truth be told… it wasn’t really the middle of nowhere. He knew exactly where he was… and it wasn’t the extensive woods behind his mansion. Yes, there were trees, and it was dark, and damp… but he could hardly call it the woods. He was intensely reminded of this fact when he ran into yet another reinforced obsidian wall.

So if not in the middle of nowhere fearing for his life in a desolate wilderness, where was Skeppy? As it so happened he was in the tree farm underneath his mansion. Or rather he was in Bad’s tree farm.   
Skeppy rarely gathered his own materials, leaving all manual labor to his best friend. If he needed iron, diamonds, even wood he could always count on Bad to have what he needed and procure it with little hesitation or prompting needed. Bad loved to dote on him, and well… Skeppy was spoiled. The reliance wasn’t intended. He didn’t want to have a dependence on his ‘servant,’ but it was so easy. The routine became the norm, and soon Skeppy wanted for naught and had a real friend. He really wasn’t a good person, he knew, but that had never stopped him before. 

And so, it was nights like this, when Bad was gone, that Skeppy truly realized how pathetically useless he really was. He learned the hard way that wealth held no weight when he was alone, when he was left to his own devices and had to establish quotas alone. When the damn torch burned out and he was terrified of a certain green demon barging into his abode.

It was these circumstances that led him to brave the dark halls of bark and heavy, drooping leaves. Why Bad left the basement a secret to everyone except the two of them would forever be a mystery to him. He had originally assumed it was because Bad hated it when the neighbors grieved the mansion and just didn’t want to have to deal with miscreants in his tree sanctuary. Skeppy would have to agree that he hated the mansion being vandalized as well, but he swore that Bad was straight up paranoid by the sheer amount of hidey holes he stumbled across covered in obsidian, the tree farm being one of many. 

The smooth obsidian was cool underneath his fingers as he felt his way along the firm wall. The cool nearly burned him as he followed its carnivorous contours before screaming out in a sharp pain as he registered a thick thump to his shin. Looking down, Skeppy could barely make out the dark shape of two wooden trunks. 

Prying them open was easy enough. Bad was terribly forgetful when it came to locking his belongings, trusting in their hidden nature to keep thieving hands at bay. Not that Skeppy was a thief of course; it was below someone of his stature. 

He lifted out and lit a torch swiftly with a practiced skill he never before took notice of. The dense forestry came alive before his eyes, bathed in an orange light. The fire draped the room in rough hues of warm light, but it also highlighted deepening shadows, shadows that spoke with an inky voice and whispered promises of hidden horrors. The mossy flooring below him was spongy and glowed a rather promiscuous green. Even the black obsidian walls seemed to resonate a deeper purple rearing a regal power that was rivaled only by that of the purest diamonds. It was tragic scene of concealed treasures and secrets

It was calm underneath the manor. There was no need to worry about Dream or where Bad was. It seemed all his problems vanished in the serrated and muted silence of the dark and cold woods. All miniscule sounds were seemingly absorbed into the trees and exhaled a sort of deep sigh. 

He took in his surroundings almost religious with the reverence he spent analyzing the cavern. He surveyed every tree in his view and took notice of the faint but differentiable difference in the hues of light as the harsh light from his torch came into contact with the cool blue glow that cascaded from the opening he'd left unattended. His eyes fell further until they, without much interest, gazed into the still open trunks.

To be frank, they were practically overflowing with trinkets. A few more torches, some rough ores carefully wrapped in thin brown paper, a couple scrolls- probably old maps- some dead flowers, an old frame, some down right dreadful jewelry, some rusted silverware, dingy and frayed tunics, a set of paint brushes, the spilt paint, a melted candle, the head of a cactus, and a book to name a few of the more note worthy items. Bad was a collector of... well everything. There was no doubt that he didn't even know that this was here, or if he did he wouldn't be able to name half the items in even one of the trunks.

Skeppy carefully knelt, feeling the wet moss soak into his pant legs, and reached into the chest. He procured the small book. It wasn't out of place per say... but it had caught his attention long enough to be of interest. The cover was an oak brown and a light shimmer seemed to simple radiate off the expensive binding. It was thick in his fingers and the paper creamy as he thumbed through he pages briefly. He'd all ready made up his mind to read it, and had half the intention of sitting down right where he was to do so.

That was until Skeppy heard the tell tell hiss. The fear registered faster than he did, the explosion even faster. 

He was overcome with every curse word he could remember as the light was stuffed out by the swift winds and the displaced ground fell from under his feet. He was launched several feet into the air before quickly making fast friends with the earth again. 

And again he swore out to nobody in particular, but god damn it felt needed and justified.

He took yet another torch, lit the fucking stick, and climbed out of the shitty ass hole he found himself in, book in hand. Skeppy didn’t bother cleaning up the crater and made his way back into his room. That was a problem for Bad to handle.

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on Twitter for in order to be notified of when I’ll update!
> 
> @Califlower101


End file.
